


Beg so Pretty

by LiviKate



Series: Daddy Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek, Daddy Kink, Embarrassed Stiles, Inappropriate Erections, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, erica is a little shit, pack dad Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiviKate/pseuds/LiviKate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a weekly basis, Derek looks to the heavens and prays with every fiber inside of him that he might be granted the ability to go back in time and keep his werewolfy teeth far away from Erica Reyes.</p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Erica "accidentally" calls Stiles Daddy and Derek can't get over it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beg so Pretty

On a weekly basis, Derek looks to the heavens and prays with every fiber inside of him that he might be granted the ability to go back in time and keep his werewolfy teeth far away from Erica Reyes.

At least once a week, she makes some variation of the same shitty joke. And even though it’s happened over and over again, Derek still can’t ignore it. It still gets under his skin, makes his nose twitch and his ears burn. He shouldn’t let it get to him.

But it’s Stiles. Stiles always gets to him.

The first time it happened, it was mostly an accident. Erica didn’t really mean anything serious by it, and everyone was pretty surprised by Stiles’ reaction, Derek more than anyone.

It happened like this.

It had been a pack night, Stiles and Derek had had a quiet evening making dinner for the squalling herd, and they’d just played a disastrous game of Apples to Apples that involved lots of screaming and name-calling. As usual, Stiles broke up the fight between the puppies and reinstated some calm into the family night.

“Erica, Isaac, it’s your turn for dishes,” he said, cleaning up the cards as the terror twins grumbled and harrumphed to their feet. “Be good little puppies now.”

Erica, still on a high from her snarling argument with Jackson, was feeling particularly snarky and her own special kind of playful. Walking to the kitchen, she pinched Isaac’s butt as he scurried in front of her and tossed a wicked smirk over her shoulder at Stiles.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said with a wink.

And everyone in the room smelled, saw, and practically heard Stiles get hard.

The reaction was near immediate. The word “Daddy” passed out of red-painted lips and Stiles’ heart was pounding, hormones racing through his blood, his skin heating up, his dick thickening in his jeans.

Everyone turned to look at him, varying degrees of shock and amazement on their faces. Stiles’ face was burning, as much blood in his cheeks as there was in his cock.

“Um,” he said, staring first at Erica with wide, guilty eyes, before turning a much more embarrassed look to Derek, sat on the couch next to him, shock plain on his face.

“Oh my God,” Erica said, awe in her voice. “This is the best thing ever.”

“No,” Stiles said, a little panicked, scent reeking with embarrassment and arousal. He stood up, one hand doing very little to cover the hard line of his cock pressing against the front of his skinny jeans. “No, Erica, don’t.”

“You have a daddy kink,” she breathed.

“No, I do not,” he said stubbornly, shuffling backwards, looking left and right for an escape.

“Omg, do you ask people to call you daddy in bed?” she asked, far too excited.

“Yes, he does,” Danny said under his breath, his cheeks brushing pink. “And, dear God, it is worth it.”

The loft lit up with the sounds of amazement and horror from the pack, allowing Stiles to roll his eyes, yell “You all suck!” and hightail it home, and allowing Derek’s half chub to go unnoticed.

 

Erica wouldn’t let it go. Isaac started doing it, too. Finding excuses to say it, just to get under Stiles’ skin. They would slip it into casual conservation, laughing when Stiles’ scent flooded with lust and he was forced to shuffle away with an awkward boner, shooting embarrassed, guiltily looking looks behind him, usually at Derek.

It was starting to fuck with Derek’s head. The last time he’d heard the words “Yes Daddy,” said so frequently was in New York when he was 18 and it had been him screaming it.

He’d been baby-faced as a teen, long and lean, couldn’t grow a beard or chest hair until he was 20. If Stiles was 147 lbs of fragile bones and sarcasm at sixteen, Derek was 130 of self-loathing and damaged sexuality. So moving to New York, swearing off women, and looking for something to punish himself with, Derek fell easily, happily and wetly into the leather scene.

And now his betas were calling Stiles’ _Daddy_. Stiles, who Derek had been slowly falling in love with. Stiles, who had put on several pounds of muscle and whose sarcasm always made Derek grin inside. Stiles, who really was kind of like a dad to the pack, caring and protective. Stiles, who Derek had thus far resisted because it would endanger the equilibrium of the pack, but mostly because Derek convinced himself he and Stiles would never mesh sexually. Most men looked at Derek now, post-growth spurt, and expected a power-top Dom. He still remembered the first time he was in a club and a younger man came up to him and called _him_ Daddy. He stopped going out so much after that.

And now he had to watch Stiles glare with flushed cheeks and a massive erection after being called Daddy in a public library.

Standing in the Argent’s garage, weapons laid out on a table like toys in a toy store, Stiles giving Erica a stern look. Derek hears her say “C’mon, Daddy, let me have it.”

Stiles pulls a red solo cup out of Isaac’s hand, saying he’s had too much. Derek hears him say “Please Daddy, gimme another.”

The worst was Danny, when Stiles fixed his form during a self-defense training, and he whispered a sultry “Yes, Sir,” and Stiles’ eyes went half-lidded and his teeth dug into his lip as he pulled his hips away, several inches away, to protect him from his boner.

Yeah. He wished he’d never bitten Erica Reyes.

 

Never mind. He’s forever grateful for Erica Reyes.

“Fuck, yes, Daddy,” he growled, eyes flashing against the pillow in his teeth.

“Goddamnit, Derek,” Stiles snarled, one hand pressed firmly over Derek’s triskelion, pushing him into the mattress.

“Harder, Daddy, please,” he gasped and felt the younger man’s hips stutter against his ass.

“You don’t have to, you know,” Stiles gasped against his ear, teeth pulling at the crest. “This would still be the best day of my life without it.”

“No, please, I love it,” Derek hissed, shoving back on Stiles’ dick. “Please,” he asked, eyes closed against the onslaught. Embarrassment at begging mixed with the perfect pressure of Stiles’ thick cock filling him up. “Please,” he breathed. “Please.”

“God, baby, you beg so pretty,” Stiles groaned, the hand on his back sliding up to grip the back of his neck, the hand on his hip yanking him back into each thrust. “So good for me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek exhaled with relief, praise relaxing every muscle. “Wanna be good for you.”

“You are,” Stiles said, mouth open and wet against the back of his neck, hand sliding around to span his throat. “So good for Daddy.”

Derek whined and the hand around his throat tightened. His cock was pouring precome onto the bed below as Stiles’ cock shoved relentlessly over his prostate, stretching him wide. He felt small again, with the human plastered to his back, holding him down against the bed, cock huge inside him. Derek started to shake as his body was overwhelmed, his thighs quivering with the strain of holding himself up.

“Harder, Daddy, I need it,” he whispered, even his voice sounding small as he begged again. He knew he could come like this, in this position, just from being fucked.

“I know what you need, Der, I gotchu,” Stiles said, sliding both hands to push down on the wolf’s lower back, his knees moving forward to push Derek’s legs farther apart. “Keep your ass up for me,” he directed. Derek arched his back, eyes rolling back at the angle and a broken moan fell from his lips. “Is that good? You like that?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Derek moaned, trying to push back into it, but only fucking up the angle. He earned a slap on the ass for his efforts and his dick pulsed a new glob of slick onto the sheet below him.

“Let Daddy take care of you,” was Stiles answer, given low on his breath as he drug Derek’s hips back into place and renewed a brutal assault.

There wasn’t much Derek could do after that other than to say “yes, Daddy,” over and over on repeat, the only words left for him as Stiles fucked him hard and perfectly.

When praise started dripping from Stiles’ lips, Derek’s impending orgasm became more than a possibility but an inevitability.

“Can I come, Daddy?” Derek gasped, voice rough, he sounded like he’d spent the last half hour screaming. Maybe he had.

“You close, baby? You’ve been such a good boy for me,” Stiles said, slapping his ass with a big hand as he fucked into him with extra force for a five count, sweat dripping from his skin to roll down the grove of the wolf’s spine. “What do you need?” he asked.

“Just, harder,” Derek said, claws digging into the mattress, ass clenching tight around the cock splitting him open. “Please, Daddy.”

“You gonna come untouched, Der? You going to be a good boy and squirt all over the bed for me?” Stiles leaned over him again, burying his nose in his hair and stretching his rim even further. He inhaled as Derek screamed. “Be a good boy. Come on Daddy’s dick.”

And Derek did, his insides clamping down as his cock jerked through his orgasm, sending come onto the sheets and onto the sweat slicked skin of his stomach and chest. He roared, he thought, or maybe he was silent and the crashing waves were just in his head.

All he heard was Stiles above him, inside him, saying “that’s a good boy,” over and over until his ass was drenched in come and Stiles was feeding it to him one finger-full at a time.

“You’re amazing,” Stiles finally said, as they caught their breath, tangled together on sticky sheets. Derek knew Stiles would complain about the wet spot later, but when he gentled him down onto his side, all he could say was how proud he was, how sweet and wet Derek got for him, how glad he was that his good boy felt that good.

“You’re amazing,” Derek said in answer, or tried. The words slurred, come drunk and mumbled around fangs.

“We’re amazing,” Stiles seemed to agree, pressing kisses into the wolf’s sweat soaked hairline. “We are, aren’t we? A _we_?” he asked, pulling his head back to look at his partner. “This isn’t just the once, right? We’re like, together now?”

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek mumbled into his skin, and he would’ve rolled his eyes, had he the energy or ability.

“Oh, so it’s just Stiles now?” he said with a grin. “I’m only Daddy when I’m fucking your brains out.”

Derek bit at his nipple with sharp teeth in retaliation and Stiles’ hiss turned into a laugh as he conceded.

“Yeah, that works for me, actually.” He stroked Derek’s hair, and the older man leaned into the touch, grateful for the attention, the care. He felt warm and safe, that wonderful, light, small feeling lasting well past the orgasm. He thought this must be what aftercare is for.

Stiles pressed his lips against his in a full, loving kiss, “How did I get so lucky?” he asked and Derek was sure he’d taken the words right out of his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even fucking sorry


End file.
